Spin-Off from A Werewolf's Cub
by Child of Dreams
Summary: Based on A Werewolf's Cub, Chapters 39-42. What if Harry never woke up after being taken into the Chamber of Secrets and Remus was forced to fight the Basilisk instead?
1. The Chamber of Secrets

**Spin-Off from A Werewolf's Cub **  
**by Child of Dreams**

**Disclaimer: For the 19th time...(sighs) yes, I counted...I do not own Harry Potter.  
(groans in annoyance before dramatically collapsing into comfy blue recliner)**  
**Why do I have to keep writing this?**

**Chapter One: The Chamber of Secrets**

Remus squinted, straining to see properly through the gloomy darkness as he walked through the tunnel he'd landed in after sliding down the hole in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  
Halfway through the tunnel, there was a sudden burst of flames as Fawkes appeared directly ahead of him.  
"What are you doing down here?" the werewolf asked, frowning in confusion.  
The phoenix trilled lightly and hovered in front of him, turning his head slightly to indicate his tail feathers.  
"You want me to grab on?" Remus questioned curiously.  
"Can you take me to Harry?"  
Fawkes let out a second, affirmative trill and the werewolf took a deep breath before grabbing hold of Fawkes' tail feathers and gripping tightly as they disappeared in a flash of flames.

Reappearing in a large, dimly lit stone chamber, Remus saw towering pillars entwined with ornately carved serpents rising to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the strange, greenish gloom that filled the place.  
The werewolf looked around, seeing that Fawkes had vanished, before cautiously stepping forward.

After a few minutes, an enormous statue came into view, seemingly rising as high as the chamber ceiling itself.  
The statue took the form of an tall wizard with an ancient, monkeyish face and a long beard that fell almost to the bottom of his sweeping stone robes.  
And between the statue's feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with messy black hair.

Remus gave a strangled cry as he rushed toward the still form.  
Hurriedly rolling his son over with trembling hands, the werewolf let out a choked sob.  
Harry's skin was cold as ice, his face white as snow and lips completely drained of all color, yet his eyes were closed, so his cub wasn't Petrified like the people in the Hospital Wing.  
But then if he wasn't Petrified, then he must be...

"Come on, Harry, please wake up!" Remus pleaded, frantically shaking his son's shoulders.  
But the child remained limp and motionless, his head lolling lifelessly from side to side.  
Remus fumbled for his wand, about to attempt an Ennervate, but before he could cast anything, quiet footsteps from behind him made him jump and turn around, wand clattering noisily to the floor.

A tall, black-haired teen stood leaning against the nearest pillar.  
He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though the werewolf was looking through a misted window.  
But Remus knew immediately who he was.

"Tom Riddle!" the werewolf spat out hatefully, crouching protectively over the unconscious boy.  
Tom raised an amused eyebrow.  
"Well, well..." he said, sounding impressed, but Remus was in no mood for idle chatter.  
"What the hell have you done to my son?" the werewolf snarled angrily, eyes glowing gold as Moony forced his way to the forefront of Remus' consciousness.

Tom smirked evilly.  
"Oh, nothing much..." the teen drawled lazily, picking up the werewolf's wand and idly twirling it between his fingers.  
"It's too late, by the way!" he said as he saw Remus make another desperate attempt to shake Harry awake.  
"The boy's dead."

Remus let out a howl of rage as the words registered in his brain.  
He lunged at Tom, but the boy easily dodged, causing the werewolf to crash into the pillar.  
Clutching his throbbing head, Remus staggered dizzily to his feet, clutching the pillar for support as he nearly fell over.

Meanwhile, Tom was hissing.  
Blinking rapidly to clear the black spots fron his vision, Remus saw the statue's mouth opening wider and wider until it formed a giant gaping hole.  
The werewolf's eyes bulged and his jaw dropped as he saw an enormous serpentine form begin to slither out of the statue's mouth.  
"A _BASILISK_?"  
Remus almost fainted in shock and horror.  
"Salazar Slytherin's legendary monster is a fucking B_ASILISK_?"  
The werewolf quickly ran for his life, squeezing his eyes tightly closed so as not to inadvertently meet the Basilisk's murderous gaze.

Tripping over his feet in his haste to escape, Remus stumbled and his eyes shot open just in time to see a flash of fire as Fawkes appeared again, clutching a glittering silver sword in his talons, which the phoenix deposited on the floor at Remus's feet right before he flew at the snake.  
There was a horrible screech as Fawkes dived and the Basilisk's head turned to face Remus before the werewolf could close his eyes.  
But it was okay, as Remus stared at the Basilisk, he saw the great yellow eyes streaming blood and realized that Fawkes had punctured them, making it safe for him to look.

But the Basilisk could still hear and smell him and Remus swore colorfully, grabbing the ruby-encrusted sword and dodging skillfully as the Basilisk's head slammed into the stone exactly where he had been lying half a second ago.  
The Basilisk lunged again and Remus put all his weight behind the sword as he drove it hilt-deep into the serpent's mouth.  
The Basilisk keeled over, twitching, and Remus felt one of the fangs sink into his arm and break off before the werewolf slid slowly to the floor, black spots dancing before his eyes.  
As Remus pulled the fang out of his arm, he felt a reasurring brush of feathers and a soft thump as Fawkes dropped a small black diary into his lap before perching on his knee and dripping thick, pearly tears onto the werewolf's wounded arm.

As the torn skin knitted together and his vision cleared, Remus stared down at the book in confusion before suddenly noticing a faint white light extending from the book to Tom.  
Realizing that the diary was keeping Tom alive, the werewolf quickly lifted the fang in his hands and thrust it into the front cover.  
There was a sharp scream and a flash of white light before Tom vanished into thin air.

Grabbing his wand off the floor, Remus crawled on his hands and knees to where Harry lay still and silent, no breath escaping the slightly parted lips.  
His body shook with the force of his sobs as Remus rocked the 12-year-old back and forth while tenderly brushing the dark bangs away from his cub's forehead, the livid redness of the lightning bolt scar standing out vividly against the deathly pale skin.  
The werewolf didn't know how many hours passed as he sat there, lost in his grief, cradling the lifeless body of his son and murmuring broken apologies as his tears hit the icy flesh.  
All too soon, however, Remus felt hands touching him, trying to pry the child's body from his protective grasp.

Remus fought the hands, clinging tighter to Harry with a wordless snarl as Moony took over.  
He had to protect Cub, couldn't let them take Cub out of his arms.  
Cub was hurt, Cub wouldn't wake up.  
Moony was NOT letting these tresspassers take Cub away from him.

But then one of the tresspassers, a male, muttered something and a red light hit the werewolf, immediately paralyzing Moony.  
Moony could do nothing but watch as the other tresspasser, this one female, walked over to where Cub had fallen out of Moony's arms when the light hit him and briefly touched Cub's throat before shaking her head sadly and gently carrying Cub over to where the male tresspasser had made a floating object that his human half called a stretcher appear.  
Moony watched as the female tresspasser laid Cub on the stretcher before the male began covering Cub's body with a strange white material that his human half called a sheet.  
Moony watched as the male tresspasser brought the sheet up so that it covered Cub's body completely from head to toe before the female tresspasser came over to Moony and forced a strange, bitter liquid into the werewolf's mouth, rubbing Moony's throat so that he swallowed.  
Then everything went black and Moony knew no more.


	2. A Father's Pain

**Chapter Two: A Father's Pain**

Remus' eyes slowly blinked open, filled with confusion for a few seconds before the werewolf let out a choked sob as his memories returned.  
Stiffly sitting up, Remus glanced out a window, noticing that it was completely dark outside and the room was dimly lit by torches mounted on the wall.  
The clock above the entrance to the Hospital Wing read 11:30 p.m.  
Gingerly climbing out of bed, the werewolf slowly made his way to a small door at the very end of the ward and slipped through the open doorway.

As his eyes adjusted to the pitch blackness of the Hospital Wing's morgue, Remus' eyes filled with fresh tears as they took in the small body lying on the raised catafalque in the center of the room.  
Remus moved toward the padded bier and just stared at his cub's face, taking in the peaceful expression on the young face.  
The silver moonlight streaming through the open window gave the 12 year old's unnaturally pale skin a soft pearly glow.

Gently caressing the child's icy cheek, Remus choked on a lump in his throat before resting his head on Harry's still chest and weeping bitterly.  
His son was dead and Remus had no delusions about him coming back to life a second time like he had after the troll attack last year.  
The headmaster had explained that Professor Snape's attempts to resuscitate Harry had ultimately worked, but it left the boy's pulse too faint to pick up, resulting in them believing him dead.  
But Remus knew there wouldn't be any of that this time.  
His cub was gone and he wouldn't be coming back.  
Ever.


	3. Preparing for Burial

Chapter Three: Preparing for Burial

Remus let out a strangled sob as he gazed down at the lifeless body of his only child, lying motionless on the bier.  
It had been three days since the 12 year old's death and the grief-stricken werewolf had just finished preparing the young boy's body for burial, dressing Harry in a clean set of his school robes.  
Tears streaming down his face as he carefully lifted the limp form into his arms, Harry's head slumping lifelessly against the werewolf's shoulder, Remus carried his son over to the mahogany casket lying on a long table that stood against the far wall and gently laid the boy inside.

The werewolf just stared for a few seconds at Harry's still form, taking in the closed eyelids and the peaceful expression on the young face.  
Lovingly caressing a pale porcelain cheek, Remus suddenly dissolved into a fit of hysterical weeping, placing wet, tearful kisses onto his cub's dark head as his tears landed among the raven locks.  
Sobbing uncontrollably, the werewolf pressed a final kiss onto Harry's icy forehead before tucking the folded invisibility cloak that had previously belonged to James Potter at the child's side.  
Then, placing the 12 year old's wand in his hand and wrapping the limp, unresponsive fingers around the wooden shaft, Remus gently squeezed Harry's cold, stiff hand before stepping backwards and closing the lid. 


End file.
